


I Stole Your Wishes

by articulatez



Series: The Book of Love (Kinktober 2019) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Groping, Hardened Alistair (Dragon Age), Kinktober 2019, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez
Summary: Newly wed and newly crowned King Alistair searches out the one he really loves. He's always been weak for her fine assets.





	I Stole Your Wishes

The war was won. King Alistair and Queen Anora's wedding filled the streets of Denerim with the joy the people had badly needed, though not all were happy. The Hero of Ferelden herself, that little mage in the mauve velvet robes, stood in the shadows during the wedding and disappeared deep into the gardens when they went to their bedding.

Alistair left a sleeping Anora's side, casting one look at her bare and peaceful body, the rise and fall of her breasts, his expression devoid of the passion that had been there. He prayed that his seed would quicken inside her and he wouldn't need to pretend again. Just because he could did not mean he enjoyed it past the base actions. The wooing, as it were. He dressed simply, neither gold armor nor heavy crown, hoping to slip the attention of a drowsy castle and take time alone.

Matters of state, replenishing what darkspawn had ravaged, infrastructure to construct again, alliances to nurture. One such alliance was of the most interest to him presently. He found her in the palace gardens, the light provided by the wisp of magic she kept glowing beside her at all times. Arlessa Delphinium Surana, so granted her title for all she had done for Thedas, paced the damp grass, the hem of her robes muddy. She muttered furiously to herself, a habit he adored on the road and now troubled him.

“Delphy,” he said. “Are you alright?”

She whirled, her long black hair whipping and oh dear she looked furious. No, that wasn't it. She'd been crying. Clutched in one of her hands was a rose, the same one he'd begged Morrigan to enchant over a year ago. It felt like a lifetime.

“Oh, yeah, I'm sodding perfect,” she said. “Not like my beloved has to meet me after he's bedded his Queen. Tell me, my King” and she swept into a mocking bow, “have you even washed your cock since you left her bed?”

“You-- you will not speak to me that way!” he said, forcing the fluster out of his tone after the first syllable. “I acknowledge you as my consort to the court and everyone else, you have as much if not more power than I do. What more could you want from me?”

“You're right,” Delphy sighed, clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Her long, pointed ears twitched like a cat's tail, letting him know that this was not resolved in the least. “The war is over. Let's not fight, King Alistair. You've given me far too much. Take this back, it's too much for an elf mage to expect.” She threw the rose down at his feet. But she was smiling, raising her brows, a familiar red in her cheeks and in her bosoms.

Oh! It wasn't anger. There was hurt, of course, jealousy. He'd been horribly jealous when they'd gone below deck of the Siren's Call and Isabela had-- She was teasing him, this was foreplay! Had she not made him strong he would have given her cold words and let her stew, perhaps permanently. But he knew better. There would be other red roses. There would not be another night like this.

“Why, Lady Surana,” he said in that low voice he thought was suave but tended to make her giggle, “your behavior is unbecoming of your position. The standing position.”

For once she held back giggles, though she was definitely biting the inside of her mouth from how she pursed. He would take that as a sign of his new authority over her, such as it were. She might have been the Hero of Ferelden, Ferelden's new Warden-Commander, and Arlessa of Amaranthine, but she listened to him in her most stubborn times.

“You wily, virile man, you're right! You could say I'm feeling a little... thorny.” She stepped on the rose with one slipper and pouted.

“Oh, come on, you've made your point. That's quite enough.” With her size it was not hard to scoop her up and haul her over his lap as he sat on the bench nearby. This was new for them and he grinned at how indignant she was.

“You can't be serious! This is undignified! I am an Arlessa, I am the bloody Hero of Ferelden!”

“Oh? You were not acting like one,” he teased, holding her snug across his lap. He leaned down and murmured in her ear, “Next time it will be my turn to be at your mercy. Sound fair, my love?” She shuddered and quickly nodded. Brightly, he said, “Wonderful!”

He examined her, specifically her backside. It was true, soon after they'd met he'd found himself admiring her swaying hips. That whole region, really. He rubbed her plump buttocks, his breath hitching like the green boy he had been half a year ago.

The gardens seemed deserted enough. In any case, no guards had patrolled during their argument and if they came by they could not get him in trouble. The nobles and commoners of Ferelden knew she was his consort, and he was their King, she their hero. That thought secure, he lifted her robes up her dark, furry legs to uncover her from the waist down save her underclothes, and those had a shadow that delighted him.

“You're wet, aren't you?” he said, stroking down the divide to brush her wet cleft briefly. She chirped and kicked a leg. “Maker's breath. If I'd known you would enjoy this so I would have put your over my knee much sooner.”

“Yeah, well... Only if it's you,” she said, tinny and breathy and excited. He was excited, too, and he knew she could feel it.

He explored her clothed buttocks at his leisure, squeezing and groping the warm, tender skin and giving flesh with his fingers curling in towards her center to make her gasp and chirp and squirm. He kept her from outright bucking with his other hand pressing her hip steady. After she had soaked through the fabric of her underclothes, and he could tell she was close, he tugged them off her hips and around her thighs. This time she offered no protest, and when he brushed her hair aside he saw her broad smile in profile. She looked like she was laughing with pleasure, that strange, lovely girl he knew who found power in spilling her blood, hope in an afflicted land, and laughter in sex that belittled no one.

“Are you ready?” he asked her gently.

She nodded. “Please!”

Maker, he found her slicker than he ever expected – every time a shock that she could be this wet – with his finger dipping up the inside of her legs and this time inside her, his palm splayed on her – ahem – taint. A handful of quick, deep strokes and she spasmed, sucking his finger deeper inside her while she squealed and laughed through panting breaths. He fucked her through it, reveling in the sight, her ass clenched and everything down below dripping, and waited for her to slap his calves and gasp, “Enough!” to ease off.

They stayed that way a moment, then she rose from his lap, letting her robes cover her again and fidgeting with the fabric around her thighs until they were back in place. She was grinning.

“You're going to need to wash a lot more than your cock now,” she noted smugly, gesturing at his pants that featured a new and obvious stain.

“Ah, well, such are the casualties of battle,” he mused. He licked his finger, tasting her thick sweetness, and she flushed, her ears drooping. “A shame about the rose.”

“Oh, you mean this rose?” Delphy said, drawing a red rose out of her robes. “I hope you aren't suggesting I would destroy this rose you plucked just for me from Lothering. What I threw on the grass was a nice bit of illusion magic.” She waved a hand to where it had been and, sure enough, it wasn't there any longer.

“You sneaky mage, that was not nice,” he said, wagging his wet finger at her. “Just for that you don't get any of this tonight.” He gestured at his clothed erection and walked stiffly past her while she wailed that it wasn't fair. He grinned. For a while it had seemed to him that everything he knew had been altered forever by the Blight and the aftermath and him claiming his birthright.

It was good to know their love wasn't one of them.


End file.
